Fault
by samandrien
Summary: Dean is there, between Earth and Heaven, and he wants to get his revenge the proper way.


Dean shivers. It is cold here; he didn't notice this fact before, running and chasing and _hunting_. But he's already there and there's no need to run. _She _is there too and she doesn't seem to be willing to give up easily.

Naomi, the one who's hurt the one angel who gave Dean a purpose of living, besides his little brother. The one who made the same angel hurt so many.

Castiel suffered so long under her control and it's not like after getting free he's all happy and perfectly well. His pain will last, and Dean knows that, but he needs to begin with his other concerns, more visible and _catchable_ ones, like this one standing before him in the dark, humid room somewhere between Earth and Heaven.

- I promised myself I'd hunt you down, bitch. Now you can't run away._ - _These weren't the words he intended to say. In fact, he almost regrets them; Naomi smirks and her expression reminds Dean of an animal who will soon attack.

- Try that, boy. - she says, almost lightly. Dean clears his throat. He needs to get her to talk and then kill her when she's off guard, after getting all the needed information. He doesn't want a clear fight, in this case.

- Why did you even do that to him? Are you fucking lunatic? Making an _angel_ kill and hurt and other things that I never wanna know? - he swallows and there's a moment of silence, with Naomi staring at him, a hint of surprise on her face, even though she's still keeping that smirk. - Do you even know the fucking guilt you caused him to feel? Because I do. And that's why I'm gonna kill you. And you're not gonna run, because I won't let you.

Naomi stands straighter, suddenly less defensive and more formal.

- There were some actions that were necessary. Castiel rebelled and went out of control and heaven allowed that to some degree. But an angel has to know the borders. Castiel's crossed the line. He has to know his place, _remember _where he belongs - she explains.

Dean only gets angrier with each second. She's not gonna help with anything, he thinks.

- So what now? Is he some fucking pet of yours? Because I bet he didn't agree to be your mindless puppet. I bet he'd _kill himself_ rather than surrender to you. - Dean hates what he's saying, but it's true. Speaking of an angel who abandoned his own family to save humans and who gave up heaven for those flawed beings, with the Winchesters always on the first place.

Naomi does this not-quite-a-smirk, not-quite-a-smile thing she always does when meeting anger and feeling above that.

- Exactly. That's why I had to force him into that state. He was being a bad angel, and angels are not supposed to kill themselves after disobedience. They're supposed to fix their mistakes - she informs Dean, face with no emotions at all. He realizes she's not _lying, _she's speaking the truth of what _she _believes in. For a moment, he's almost less angry - _but, _dear boy, I must say I enjoyed him being _degraded_ like this. Such a good, obedient child. Should have stayed this way.

Dean clenches his jaw. He almost notices his control fading away. The instincts play their best song. He gets to Naomi in no time, before she manages to catch her breath after that short speech she gave.

A nanosecond before Naomi's smirk vanishes, Dean notices her eyes widening of fear and it satisfies him. The angel blade is not deep in her chest but it's _almost_ as deep as needed to kill her. She still could get away and heal, she still could live if it wasn't for the fact Dean's arms are strong and he isn't going to let go.

Naomi opens her mouth and tries to speak but she can't, and there's an overwhelming fear and hate in her eyes and there's something more, something that almost makes Dean _not _do what he planned, and he isn't sure what that is. He breaks the eye contact, grits his teeth and pushes the blade into her heart.

Then there's light and her shout seems to be ripped out of her chest along with her grace, Dean still there, eyelids squeezed and his hand on the blade. He feels like he's dying and maybe he is, because isn't being next to a dying angel dangerous? But then it's all over and he inhales, that has to mean he's alive. He pulls the angel blade out of her chest and sighs, letting go of her dead body.

As he glances at her once more, at the wings burned into the ground and her face, still in fear but more peaceful, he knows what the thing he saw in her eyes was.

Guilt.


End file.
